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Authors: Tom Lichtenberg,Benhamish Allen

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BOOK: The Part Time People
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“Where you from originally?” Gwen asked.

 

“Oh, around.”

 

She got the hint and said, “Oh, so you don't wanna talk.”

 

David just shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Well, that's okay.” she said, “Sometimes I don't feel like talking either.” It wasn't true. She always liked to talk, especially on these boring Thursday nights when no one ever came to shop. It was just a family tradition, not good business sense, that kept them open late that night. They barely made enough on Thursday nights to pay the part time people's wages, let alone her own. But Mike and Joe insisted, like their father had, like his dad before him too. Gwen was used to it, and didn't really mind. She liked sleeping in late on Thursday’s. And if it wasn't for the part time people, it would have been the best day of the week.

 

They were always strange. She'd been through maybe five or six of them over the last two years, and she hadn't really gotten along with any one of them. She used to think that maybe it was all her fault. No one else had complained about them. That made her think that maybe she was the one, maybe she was weird, not them, but later on Mike’s wife Bobby had come to her support and told her she felt the same way about the part-timers. There was no longer any doubt. It isn't me. It's them all right, Gwen thought. And boy, could she tell stories about those guys! It all began when Joe came back, just after his father died. Gwen had been there for a year already at the time.

 

Before Joe came back, his father had worked the extra shifts himself, and there had been no part time people. Just the family folks and her. But Joe didn't want to work the extra hours. He didn't belong there, really, she thought, but who was she to say? He was the oldest, after all. In any case, he sure knew how to hire people.

 

Every time it was another weirdo. The first one, Rick, just seemed happy to be a jerk at first, a stupid happy jerk who couldn't learn a thing. He never figured out the difference between a twenty and a ten. That was bad for business and his drawer was always short or over, never right, she could live with that though. It was the way he turned out later, after about two months, when he started commenting on what the customers were purchasing.

 

He'd come to think that you could tell a person's personality from the office supplies they bought. She thought that he was joking, maybe he was making fun of everyone, but he was deadly serious. And from there it was a short step to analysis and counseling on how to change themselves by changing carbon paper brands, and finally to fortune telling through the medium of paper clips. He had three special ones, gold plated, which he would rattle in his hand and toss out on the counter, then proceed to tell the customer's future. This he only did on Thursday nights, when Mike was not around. And Mike did not believe her when she told him all about it. That's the stupidest thing I ever heard, he said, and she had said, well, he's just about the stupidest person I ever met!

 

Most customers didn’t mind a quick fortune at the end of their transaction, they thought it was amusing. But Rick finally flipped out and started seeing the apocalypse whenever he threw his clips. Customers started complaining and they had to let him go. He still showed up every now and then, and purchased supplies occasionally. He seemed different though, his goofy grin was gone, replaced by an unkempt beard.

 

After him was George, the creep who couldn't keep his hands off anything. He flirted with all the customers, women and men. He was unbelievable. Gwen used to stand there and just gape at him as he delivered his lines. They actually worked a few times and he would suddenly tell Gwen he was leaving early, then walk out with his catch. No one could get over him. He was like a magic trick you couldn't figure out, an obscene, ridiculous creature someone pulled out of a hat. He was loud, too, as if he had a built-in microphone. You could hear him clear across the store like he was standing next to you, and he was one of those people who had no sense of personal space. George was magnetic, not like charismatic people whom others are drawn to, but in the opposite way. He was drawn to everyone else, and they could not easily disengage from him. He even glommed onto Joe at times, though for some reason he steered clear of Mike. When Mike was around, George was more subdued and kept himself within reasonable bounds. With that cat away, however, George was everywhere, pulling himself into everybody’s business, helping those who would more happily be helping themselves, and taking his high-volume patter on a continual tour around the shop. He’d pop back into the office and draw near Joe when he was there, asking questions and making suggestions and telling stories and basically driving the boss crazy. Joe would sit there shaking with frustration and rage, unable to rid himself of the creature or even think straight while the fellow was in there with him.

 

Eventually George would move along, heading back out to the floor to find another potential victim, leaving Joe with a sense of urgency to do something, anything, to put an end to that scourge of constant communication. He realized that something had to be done. So far the part time people had left on their own whenever they’d become too much of a problem, and Joe had always been able to wait them out. He wasn’t sure he could do that this time. He asked Gwen if she thought that George would soon be leaving and she only sighed and shook her head and said, “if only.” She didn’t believe he would ever leave. George had told her he absolutely loved the job.

 

“The people you meet”, he exclaimed. “Who would have thought? A stationery store? It just goes to show you, you never can tell.”

 

Still, Joe tried to hang on and endure the pestering. It all became too much though, one day when George decided to become a little too curious about Joe’s personal life, asking him really inappropriate questions and making light of Joe’s refusal to answer them. Joe was furious and decided right then and there that enough was enough. George didn’t show up for work the next day. Gwen was so relieved she almost cried, but this was not the end of the part time people problem.

 

Then there was Ron. Ron who couldn't be fired. Ron who could not be talked to. Ron who was simply too remote from this world to be reached in any way at all. The only person who could ever talk with him was God almighty himself. Then Ron might possibly listen, but only if he happened to feel like it that day. He was always muttering beneath his breath, so soft you couldn't make out the words, but you knew you didn't want to anyway. Ron was just too much. David couldn't possibly be any worse than him. And he couldn't be worse than Martin. Gwen hadn't yet gotten over Martin either. Because Martin hadn’t gotten over her. He had taken to stalking her ever since he stopped showing up for work at DeBarrie's a few weeks previously. She had tried calling the cops, but Martin hadn’t yet crossed the line, they told her. Every Thursday she saw him, waiting at her subway stop. He just watched her get on and ride away. She didn’t want to know what was going on inside his head, but she knew it couldn’t be good. She just prayed he would go away.

 

She couldn't help but think about these things throughout the rest of the evening. David didn’t try to initiate any conversation, and she got tired of having him just stand around up there, so she told him that he should just look around the store and get to know where everything was. And if he had any questions he should ask now since it was slow. David busied himself with this for a little while, he went around the store a couple of times, but he ended up just staring at the shelves and spacing out.

 

David was glad she didn't insist on talking, and he noticed how almost no one came in the store, but he figured it was just a slow night and it wasn't usually like that. He didn't ask about it, he'd find out soon enough in any case, after a few more weeks. It was good to be thinking in terms of weeks, but when he noticed he was thinking in that way he made his mind shut up. I can't let myself get carried away, he thought.

 

Gwen read a magazine and pretended to ignore David, but she was watching him all the time. He would move to an area of the store and just stand there for a few minutes, obviously not looking around and learning the stock, then he’d move to another spot in the store. Well, maybe he's just bored, she thought, I know I am. She was determined to give him the benefit of the doubt. So far he doesn't seem so bad, she told herself. Maybe it will be okay this time. I'd rather have a total bore than a total lunatic.

 

When it was time to close, they quickly said good night to each other, then he left. She put the money away, turned off the lights, and locked up for the night. That wasn’t too bad, she thought as she stepped out the door. She was glad to be outside, the night was warm and still. It was just beginning to get dark. She walked over to the subway entrance, and glanced around quickly. Martin was nowhere in sight. She breathed in relief and started thinking about dinner and what she was going to watch on television that night.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

 

On Monday morning, Joe was late to work. He had sat around the house he shared with his brother’s family while Mike got ready to go. Coming? Mike had asked, and Joe had said, not yet, I think I'll just wake up a bit. But he was already awake.

 

On Monday morning, Joe sat around the house and drank his way through an entire pot of coffee.

 

He was reluctant to depart. There was no reason why he should go in anyway. There was really nothing on his desk that couldn't wait. There were many days like this, but he knew he would feel guilty if he didn’t show up, even though he didn't have anything to do. His father had always gone to work, always on time, and never missed a day.

 

His father had lived for DeBarrie's. After his wife had died, there was nothing else for him. I don't have to live like that. Joe thought, I could do something else entirely, but memories of his short teaching career flooded into his mind. No, he thought I can’t do anything else.

 

When Joe came back to the store, after his abrupt departure from the university he'd locked himself into a pattern that he couldn't seem to break. Every weekday morning he got up to go to work. And then he'd be there and he'd have to sit around all day, taking as much time as he could to do the simplest things. He was bored with life, and yet he wasn't sad. It was just the way it was. And he did get some kind of enjoyment out of it, occasionally. Sometimes he felt good doing things that needed to be done, making himself useful, helping Mike. Mike could not do everything, he told himself, so I am glad to lend a hand. That was his excuse. Actually, it didn't matter to him at all, whether the things got done or not.

 

Joe had a special reason why he didn't want to go to work today. He was afraid to find out how things were with David. He figured that if Mike went first, maybe he would deal with any problems there might be, and then he wouldn't have to. Not that there should be any problem he told himself. David will be fine, he's just a nervous kid who's probably had some bad luck in the past, that's why he gets so tense, that's why he was so jittery. Joe could understand. Maybe the kid just hasn't figured out where he’s going, Joe thought. Maybe all he needs is an easy place to be, a place where no one hassles him, where he can have some time to get himself together.

 

Joe was sure he was right, and he would have wanted somebody to do the same for him back then, back when he was teaching. He figured that's what the part time job should be for, people who needed a chance to help themselves. It was too ridiculous a job for someone who already had things straight. And so he tried to help them out. I do my best, he thought. Everybody needs a place to be. Eventually the notion that he should be at the store got through to him, and he got up and left the house.

 

Mike was busy as always, checking in the morning delivery, studying the invoice and carefully counting all the merchandise received. David was up front at the register. He looked comfortable with the machine. Joe smiled and said good morning. David smiled back. Joe went over to Mike and asked him how the day was getting on.

 

Mike said “Great, everything is fine.”

 

“And David?” Joe inquired.

 

“The kid's all right.” Mike said. “He's got the register down already. I talked to Gwen this morning on the phone, and she says he was fine on Saturday. This could be the one.”

 

“I hope you’re right, Mike, It's about time.”

 

Mike nodded and went back to work. Joe went into his office.

 

David noticed them talking and he knew their conversation was about himself. He wondered what they said. He didn't think it would be anything bad, because he'd been doing his job without any problems so far. He was doing the best he could, just like he'd said he would.

 

Gwen didn't talk too much, and she didn't make him feel uncomfortable anymore. Also he had not seen any crazy people since about a week, and that was good. He was being extra careful now. When he walked around the streets, he didn't let his eyes wander, he kept his focus on his destination. He knew that if he didn't see them, he wouldn't get any ideas. But usually he had to look, just in case it might be him. You never know he thought. It could be any one of them.

 

Gwen greeted Joe as he walked in,

 

“Morning Joe, are you awake yet? Mike and David stepped out for some coffee, I told them to bring you back a cup.”

 

Joe smiled.

 

“I drank an entire pot this morning. I’m pretty wired.”

 

“Well you probably don’t need any more then, I could sure use some though.” Gwen said. “I was up all night worrying about Martin.”

BOOK: The Part Time People
12.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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